Golden Gate Bridge as well.
Worth every second of the walk. Almost. Finn’s house was a Victorian-style, narrow row house. The garage was on the bottom floor, two stories above that, with steps leading up to the front door and down to a short driveway—on which sat a ’66 Chevelle.
The sexy muscle car’s hood was up and a very sexy jeans-covered tush was all Pru could see sticking out of it. She recognized the perfect glutes as Finn’s—clearly a sign she’d been ogling said perfect glutes too much. Not that she was repentant in the slightest about this, mind you. In any case, his long denim-covered legs were spread for balance, his T-shirt stretching taut over his flexing shoulder and back muscles and riding up enough to expose a strip of navy boxers and a few inches of some skin.
She tried not to stare and failed. “Hi,” she said.
Nothing. He just kept doing whatever it was he was doing under the hood, which involved some serious straining of those biceps.
She moved a little closer. “Finn?”
More nothing, but now she could hear the tinny sound of music and caught sight of the cord from his earbuds.
He was listening to something. Loudly. Classic rock by the sounds of it.
She stared at him, at the streaks of grease on his jeans and over one arm, at the damp spot at the small of his back making his shirt cling to him . . . It was the kind of thing that in the movies would be accompanied by a montage of him moving in slow motion to music, the camera moving in and focusing on that lean, hard body.
Giving herself a mental shake, Pru set Thor down, and holding his leash, shifted even closer to Finn before reaching out to tap him. But at the last minute she hesitated because once again she couldn’t figure out where to touch him. Her first choice wasn’t exactly appropriate. Neither was her second.
So she settled for his shoulder.
If he’d done the same to her, she probably would’ve jumped and banged her head on the hood. But Finn had better reflexes, and certainly better control over them. Still cranking on something with a wrench, he simply turned only his head to give her a level stare.
“Hi,” she said again and bent over at the waist, hands to her knees to try to catch her breath. “That’s quite a hill.”
He reached up and pulled out one earbud. “Hi yourself. Need an oxygen tank?”
“You kid, but I totally do.”
“You’re still wearing glitter,” he said with a smile.
“Five showers since that night,” she said, tossing up her hands. “I’ve taken five showers and it’s still everywhere. And Thor has been pooping glitter for days . . .”
Still smiling, he crouched and held out his hand for Thor. “You were quite the show the other night.”
She chewed on her lip, not sure if he was teasing or complimenting her or not.
“I could watch you do that every night,” he admitted.
“What, make a fool of myself?”
His smile turned into a full-fledged grin. “Sing and dance like no one’s watching. Live like no one’s watching.”
And just like that, she melted a little.
Thor was sniffing Finn’s hand carefully, cautiously, wanting to make sure this was his Finn, and finally he wagged his tail.
“Atta boy. It’s just me.” Finn opened his arms and Thor moved in for a hug.
Pru stared at the big, sexy guy so easily loving up on her silly dog and felt her throat go a little tight.
“I know Archer didn’t tell you where I live,” Finn said, eyes still on Thor. “Or Spence. I mean, Spence would if he thought it was funny but they’re both pretty hardcore about having my back.”
The hardcore part was undoubtedly true. She’d seen the three guys with each other. There were bonds there that seemed stronger than any relationship she’d ever had, a fact that played into her deepest, most secret insecurity—that she might be unlovable.
“Elle values privacy above everything else,” Finn said, “which leaves the busybodies.” He was watching her now. “Willa or Haley?” he asked.
“Neither.” She hesitated, not wanting to get Sean in trouble.
“Shit.” Finn rose, Thor happily tucked under one arm like he was a football. “Eddie?”
“Eddie?” Pru asked, confused. “Who’s Eddie?”
“The old guy who enjoys dumpster diving, eating dope brownies, and not minding his own business.”
Pru gaped. “I’ve been feeding him for a month now and he’s never told me his name. And I’ve asked a million times!”
“He likes to be mysterious.